


Candlelight Is How I Like To See

by Nami_Okami



Category: Good Omens, Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley in Love (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Fluff and Angst, Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:14:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29248605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nami_Okami/pseuds/Nami_Okami
Summary: Two ineffable idiots being sincere for the first time ever.A wtiys entry for the talented @usedtobehmc.#hmcwtiys
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 14





	Candlelight Is How I Like To See

Sometimes things just don’t go according to expectations. Even the wildest dreams can become nightmares rather than something... beautiful. Soft and kind. Ineffable. 

Just like Aziraphale. 

_I am really in love with this cheeky bastard. How pathetic._

But at the same time that was something soothing in this conclusion. The first part of Crowley’s existence felt like a jigsaw puzzle missing a piece. He was not even sure what the picture should be. Until he saw that fussy angelic guardian.

Aziraphale was interested in conversations. And he was worried if he did the wrong thing about helping people. Crowley wanted to calm him and said something like: “now there’s no punishment for the curly and pretty ones like you”, but he was curious if this particular angel can hold a talk longer. Maybe they could watch together this thing called “rain”. No hurry for the forsaken Heaven for people.

There was something calming in a way of their difference. Well, Crowley still had wings, even if they were black. But angel… was an angel. He spread his white feathered wing above Crowley’s head and looked at the first people moving towards the unknown. He was so different. And Crowley liked that.

Surprisingly, that angel was hedonistic and curious. Aziraphale chose Crowley’s company every time he was in the area. They argued once, but the view of the angel fussing around with his silly “let me tempt you to -“ did something with Crowley’s fences. He was building them for ages, but this angel with his awkward attempts to chat with a demon… Well, he decided to let that happen. 

He didn’t realize he was starting to enjoy pleasing his enemy. Were they _really_ enemies? Crowley looked at the open face with curly hair and these pale blue eyes and couldn’t see anything dangerous. Still an angel, but so unlike the others. Still a loyal, but bungling apostle.

_Wasn’t that the main reason they sent you to the Earth? They didn’t see a warrior, they saw just a conciliator. And that was good. They couldn’t take you away from me before the time comes._

But deep down both of them knew that the Apocalypse is inevitable. They didn’t talk about that, just kept seeing each other secretly, impatiently. Aziraphale was so happy to see him in that French prison. Crowley wasn’t happy at all to see him in chains. They reminded him about the blind obedience. He didn’t want that for this angel. His hands should be tightened with soft ribbons, not with the cold metal. 

He tried to write letters to Aziraphale. The ending of one letter became the beginning of the next, an endless ribbon of words which were so dangerous for the both of them. He folded letters that exposed his soul and burned them with the first snow. Prophecies of doom are never in short supply, especially when winter comes. 

It was obvious that with the passing of years his soul had become tender. Crowley knew it and he hated himself for his weakness. But it wasn’t a problem for Aziraphale. They did favors to each other, became profit participants in Heaven and Hell’s plans for humanity. Crowley was excited by the fact that sometimes angel tempted people instead of him. He wanted to see the whole process for a minute, but Aziraphale was adamant. Crowley liked his colleague to be so firm.

The real problem was that Crowley’s cock became hard every time Aziraphale made this lovely noise while eating or when he bit his lower lip. 

The first time when it happened was that bloody evening with oysters from the view of a relaxed angel. Crowley shouldn’t make himself so alike as the male humans were.

Aziraphale was drunk and happy. His hand gently fumbled the edge of his white toga. The wine was good and Crowley wasn’t angry at all. At least, not with this particular creature. 

“Thank you for the company. I really appreciate that.”

Crowley grunted. “You’re welcome.” 

_No, not like that._

“Anytime, angel.”

Aziraphale looked at him with so much admiration that he suddenly wanted to drown in these shiny eyes. Angel reached for the oyster and closed his eyes.

_You’re kidding._

The sound of pleasure fluttered from the chubby lips and digged into Crowley’s braincells. He wasn’t blinking: he didn’t want to miss a thing. Still a demon, he felt insatiable hunger for any touch of these holy fingers. But he knew that it was a very bad idea: too dangerous for the both of them. That was the moment when he realised that he began to care about someone.

_You’re too soft with all this - this - nevermind._

Crowley stares at his phone. 

But it’s useless to keep silent longer. After that awful trial and their dinner at the Ritz they didn’t talk. They said officials and went straight home.

_At least, he deserves to know why you’re leaving London._

Crowley slithers from his bed, snaps with his fingers and looks at the mirror.

_You look shitty. That’s good, could work with angel. Uh, nevermind._

_***_

When Crowley reaches the bookshop it’s not even closing hours. Dusty stack of books floating in rays of the sun.

“In a minute!” Aziraphale’s voice sounds a little muffled, but it doesn’t prevent Crowley from nervous swallowing.

_And there he is. Busy, as always. And you want to make him as dirty as his beloved books._

“Take your time, Aziraphale.”

“Crowley!”

Aziraphale finds his friend standing near the long shelves of books in the beams of the setting sun. He looks very… fitting. Angel puts a book to his chest. He missed this grin on the demon's face.

“Crowley! What a pleasant surprise! In a minute, dear!”

“Yeah, right.”

Crowley reaches for the first book that gets under his hand and stares at the cover and grunts. 

_So ironic._

“What is it?” Aziraphale bents over the shelf he was busy with.

“The Power of Patience: How This Old-Fashioned Virtue Can Improve Your Life.”

“Oh, that one. I remember. Well, patience is a virtue.”

Crowley doesn’t reply, pretending he’s busy with finding pictures.

_We’ve known each other for 6000 years. You don’t even know how for long I’ve been assuring myself that waiting is good. No, angel, it’s bloody torturous. And still… why do I come back to you like I don’t mind if you fuck up life?_

Aziraphale frowns a little, but decides to finish the work before continuing the conversation. In fact, he doesn’t care what type of conversation it would be: during their long acquaintance he discovered himself greedy for Crowley’s presence. It’s not like he knew many demons, but this one was definitely the good one. But usually Crowley makes a call before he comes. Usually he brings something with him. Usually he’s more relaxed and ready to make a snarky remark on anything. For a second, Aziraphale thought that he was in the bookshop because he needed to say something risky and confidential. Maybe he needs help. If that is so, Az would be pleased to help his associate. Fellow. Partner.

The last word makes his hand a bit shaky. When he puts the last book on the shelf, he looks out of his improvised wood castle.

Crowley raises one eyebrow. The more Aziraphale gives him concerned looks, the more demon begins to doubt in certainty of his mind. He’s definitely gone mad to come over the bloody bookshop with no plan. 

_Get your shit together._

“Dear, may I suggest you tea? Or a glass of wine would be… more preferable?” Aziraphale gives him a gentle smile: that special type which has always made his heart drift down the sharp ribs.

“Yes it’s - fine. I’m fine. There’s no need to be drunk.”

_Cause I’m already drunk with you, shiny bastard._

“Alright. Then I’ll... put the kettle up.” 

Angel passes him, but suddenly Crowley needs to see his face. He cuts the distance and catches a soft sleeve, making Aziraphale look at him in confusion.

_Great job. Now he thinks you’re a child._

“Can you listen to me at first?”

“Sure, my dear. Shall we -”

“No. Don’t - please.”

Aziraphale is nodding and at the same time the doorbell is ringing. Angel looks back on the hapless late buyer.

“Good afternoon, Aziraphale!”

“Good afternoon, madam!” Aziraphale makes a quick polite nod and turns back to demon. Crowley gulps.

_Damnit._

“Angel, I - I’m leaving London. Tonight.”

“What?..” Aziraphale suddenly gasps.

Crowley realizes that he’s still holding a sleeve of an angel's shirt. He slowly opens his fingers.

“I am here to tell you this. Didn’t want to leave without saying “goodbye” to an old friend of mine.”

Aziraphale purses his lips. “For how long?”

“Actually, I don’t know yet, angel.”

Aziraphale frowns and there’s this nice little crease appearing between his eyes. Crowley always wanted to use his finger to smooth it out, relieve the tension.

“Did I... do something wrong?”

“What? No, nothing to do with you. That’s my decision.”

“Right.”

_No, it’s not right, oh, Goodness._

Angel absently hairs blond streaks. “Just a moment. Please.”

“You have all the time in the world, angel.”

Aziraphale nods and goes straight to the woman. “I am very sorry, but I am afraid that I need to close the shop earlier today. But you can come tomorrow and I’ll show you some new rare romances.”

The woman gives him a regretful look.

“Oh, what a pity! But if they would be as great as those that you gave me last time, I can’t complain.”

_Why are you fidgeting so much, Aziraphale?_

Crowley leans on the shelf, watching the conversation.

“I can assure you that these would be very spicy.” Aziraphale gives the woman a wide smile. “You have my word.”

“See you tomorrow then, dear!”

“Have a nice evening, madam!”

“Ssso, since when do you have taste in spicy romances?”

Aziraphale closes the door and pulls the curtains. “You really want to talk about that?”

“We can talk about anything you want.”

“What is the real reason, Crowley?”

Demon knew that Aziraphale would be upset, but now the angel looks so lost that Crowley has a little tingle in his fingertips. He eagers to calm him down.

“Maybe I need a little change of pace. London is too noisy and the countryside sounds very good for my old bones, don’t you think?”

“But…” Aziraphale bites his lower lip.

_No, that’s not the reason, yes, you’re right._

“I am sorry, angel, but I can’t stay. Too many distracting things. By the way, nice rearrangements, now the books look more...”

“Crowley, why didn’t you call me?”

Crowley freezes. “What?”

“I thought you would call me. Maybe next day. We could have a walk in the park, or have lunch. Anything.” Aziraphale clenches his fists. His blue eyes are getting darker. Crowley knows this look and this is bad.

“I - I’m sorry, angel.”

“And now you’re just coming to my shop and telling me that you’re going to disappear for an uncertain period of time?” Aziraphale gives him a cranked smile. “You know, for a demon you are a very bad liar.”

“Well -” Crowley grins and has no words to object. “I'm just - not very comfortable with uncomfortable silence. But I'd like to take it back to awkward silence now. It will be much easier to - ”

“I won’t let you get rid of me.”

Aziraphale makes a few steps and Crowley fades back to the bookshelves. 

“Look, Aziraphale, I didn’t mean to -”

“You didn’t mean to _what_ , Crowley?” 

_What are you doing, dumbass, you are the fucking demon._

“To bother you with my existence.”

Aziraphale rolls his eyes. 

“What on Earth are you talking about? You’ve been bothering me any spare moment, what made you -”

“Ssshut it.” 

They have been there before: an angel, pinned to the wall, and a demon, hissing at him. But now it feels different, because Aziraphale gently covers his hands with his fingers.

“I am very sorry that I made you feel… Uncomfortable.” His eyes are so pure and drawing. “Are you sure there’s no way that we can solve this? Together?” He gently smoothes Crowley’s fingers. There’s no lightning strike or loud sound of cracking ground. For a moment, Crowley thinks they can really figure it out.

_Shit._

“Aziraphale, _no._ ”

_You cannot look at me like that. I cannot stand, you’re smelling so good._

“I need to go.” He releases the edge of the angel's jacket and looks away. “You don’t even know how I hate saying -”

Aziraphale inhales. The next moment Crowley finds himself pinned to the shelf. Moreover, the angel places his hands on his face. 

“Dear, would you be so kind to shut up for a while?”

“Azira-”

Angel doesn’t let him finish a sentence covering his lips with a soft kiss. Crowley blinks, but the vision is still here.

“Angel, what the f-”

“Language, my dear.” Purrs Aziraphale, putting a finger on his lips.

Crowley frowns, trying to figure out what just happened.

“You’re thinking too loud, even for me.” Angel makes a step back, fumbling his fingertips. “I thought that was quite obvious.”

“Obvious?” Crowley suddenly feels himself a hero of some strange show where he’s the dumbest person in the room.

“That I like you. Very much.”

“Right.” He swallows too loud for the room. “I mean, no.”

Aziraphale smiles sadly. “I am sorry that it was so spontaneous, but I thought that maybe this is my last chance to tell you that I… Oh, dear.”

_I am dreaming. And I’m having a fucking nightmare._

Crowley doesn’t blink.

“Crowley, what I really mean is… I love you. And that’s fine if it is not mutual, but at least, I had a chance to -”

What Crowley is really sure of is that he doesn’t give angel a chance to end this sentence. He cuts the distance and places his hands on Aziraphale’s face, pulling him into a deep kiss.

Angel makes a quiet moan and Crowley pins him to the shelf, exposing his knee between Aziraphale’s legs. He breaks the kiss and makes his own path of kisses on angel’s cheek, while inleaching his bow tie. Angel grasps his shoulders with shaky hands and Crowley leans to his ear.

“Ssso, tell me, angel, do you want to have sex with me?”

“N-no. Not really, I -”

“No?” Crowley tries to take a step back, but Aziraphale doesn’t allow him. He looks so wrinkly without his bow. 

_Such a lovely bastard._

“I mean, yes, but… Not exactly.”

“Angel, we can just -”

Aziraphale shakes his head. “What I mean is that I want to make love with you.”

Crowley feels that his body is pierced by thousands of small beams of something warm. He rubs his nose against angel’s neck, making Aziraphale produce such lovely noises.

“You know, that’s more like my job to tempt innocent angels.”

“How many of them?”

“You have no idea how greedy I am.”

“Oh, really? So come and kiss me before the sun goes down.”

Crowley swallows again. “Of course, you prefer darkness for something… Inappropriate.”

It’s almost hurting to feel a soft laugh under his lips. For a short moment, he wants to bite an angelic neck till pain, to make him scream his name.

“Candlelight.” Aziraphale is almost whispering.

“What?” Crowley stares at his angel like he sees him for the first time.

“Candlelight. This is how I like to see you. Because in the darkness, it's not the same. And you are not a creature of night, Crowley.” 

“Tell me more.”

***

Crowley slowly curls blond hair on angel’s chest. Aziraphale’s sleepy face is almost glowing in the light of the dancing flame of candles. Demon’s eyes are watering from the view.

_This can’t be true. I bet he'll wake up in the morning and tell me that it was a huge mistake. I should leave… The better for me…_

“Don’t you dare.” Aziraphale whispers and puts his fingers on his back. “Don’t you dare to sleather, serpent.” 

“Aziraphale? I thought you were sleeping.” Crowley hides his tears, rubbing them against angel's chest.

“Actually, I was…” Aziraphale laughs quietly. “Why do you think I want to give it up? I thought I was rather persuasive a few hours ago.”

Crowley swallows hard. His body still remembers the way he was treating his angel.

“You know very well that all the monsters come out at night. There’s no place for all of this in the broad daylight. You shouldn’t lie to yourself, angel. That’s not what -”

“I know very well what I deserve.” Aziraphale is petting demon’s red hair, playing with the strands. “When I said that I love you - I meant it.”

_That’s too much._

"Why do you…” Crowley hangs over the angel on straight arms. He needs to find any sign of lie, any clue.

“Dear, we are supernatural beings. For how long do you think one can love another?”

“Till the- till the -”

“Till the end of times. Does it suit you?” 

Crowley doesn’t know the right answer. Aziraphale grins. “The only thing you should think about is for how long am I going to have you. You were so good to me, I want to praise you. Let me taste you.” Angel gently strokes demon’s prick. 

“I didn’t know about your cock preferences.”

“Well, I do have preferences about one particular demon’s cock. But if you want, it can be… _not exactly_ that one.”

Crowley hisses. He can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“Angel, are you tempting me to make a vagina for you?

“Maybe next time. Now, please, do shut up and let me taste you, dear boy.”

Crowley sticks his fingers in the sheets, making a low moan on pleasure. Aziraphale’s mouth is definitely the eight deadly sin.

_Why the Heav- why he’s so good at doing this-_

“Should have known about your practices, angel. How many lessons did you get from humans?”

Angel releases demon’s prick and looks at him deprecatingly. 

“Have you lost your mind completely? You are the first, the last and my everything, Crowley.”

“Fuck, angel -”

Crowley is an agile serpent, so that’s not a big deal to change their positions. He takes his place between spreaded legs, leaving a track of light bites on the inner side of angel’s thighs. Aziraphale moans softly. His curls are in a complete mess, his lips are bitten and red. 

“Look at you. A masterpiece.” Crowley rubs his nose against angel’s hip.

Angel smiles softly. His fingers caressing demon’s hair. “You’re so good to me, love. Please, let me feel you.”

“You filthy little angel. So naughty, are we?” Crowley slowly leaks the tip of angel’s prick with his forked tongue. “So wet, just for me.”

“Crowley -”

Crowley looks very fitting, right there. The world begins with a gentle kiss on angel’s hip, with a wide lick.

“Don’t you dare to praise me. Not your department, angel.”

And the world collapses for the both of them: with a heat for the angel and with a sweet moan for the demon.

***

Sometimes things just don’t go according to expectations. Aziraphale knew it, but also he didn’t like things to be complicated. Until he almost died several times. And then there was Crowley saying something about saving the world. Running away together. Having dinner at the Ritz. A demon, having faith. And when there was no hope, angel was desperately searching for Crowley. Demon made him believer.

That week was terribly long. Aziraphale wanted to call Crowley, but wasn’t sure what to say.

_I’m in love with you?.. Would you like to run away?.. Isn’t it too late for me to say how wonderful you are?.._

Crowley’s appearance was like a relief. His kisses were so desperate, that angel could feel almost every minute they spent being apart. Aziraphale was impatient by helping taking off their clothes. He needed to be touched.

“I can give you some time, but not distance.”

Crowley nodded. “Then give me all of yours.”

And Aziraphale kissed him back as messy, as he could. Crowley laughed and bite his neck, hugging him.

“What is it, dear?”

“I wonder, what do you pray of, angel?”

“Isn’t that obvious?”

“If that’s all about the forgiveness, I ssswear -”

“There’s no price to pay when you give and what you take. That's why it's easy to thank you. I am thankful to the Gods for making you.”

“Angel -”

“Take off your pants, Crowley.”

***

Even the wildest dreams can become true, if you’re doing your best. 

Angel rubs with his nose against Crowley’s. 

“Angel… Can we stay like this -”

“If you like.” Aziraphale kisses his nose and Crowley melts. He snuggles against his forehead with his own. “I know that you can’t see and don’t know exactly who you should be, but at least, you can always have me.”

Aziraphale shivers. “I don’t even know your name.”

“So, what then is my name to you?”

Aziraphale blushes. “What does it mean? Forgotten long with fresh rebellion’s new excitement, your name will not produce incitement of gentle, pure memento’s song.”

Crowley looks into the eyes of his angel without blinking. Aziraphale swallows. 

“But when trial comes, I humbly plea that, grieving, you may memory summon; that you may say: “Yes, there is someone whose heart remains a home for me.” Crowley, you are a world to me.”

“Oh, fucking bastard. I love you so much.”

“I know, dear. Stay with me. Like this.”

“I will, Aziraphale. Whatever you like.”

**Author's Note:**

> Aziraphale used a poem of a famous russian poet Alexander Pushkin called "So, what then is my name to you?..", because if was fitting perfectly, so if you'd like you can find the whole lyrics translated by Rupert Moreton on the internet ;)


End file.
